Quarrel for Coffee
by musicprincess1990
Summary: The "first meeting" everyone knows about... but with a twist. Sequel to Bickering at Bergdorf's.


Lorelai was frozen (temporarily) in terror. There was no coffee at the Inn, and it seemed every other place nearby was closed. She only had twenty minutes until she had to pick Rory up from school, and if she was to be the pleasant and loving mom that she'd tried so hard to be for the last eleven years, she had to get caffeine in her system—and fast!

Just then, she spotted what looked like a small diner up ahead, and ran (well, sort of, I mean, how well can you run when you're in a pencil skirt and heels?) toward it, hoping against hope that it wasn't too busy.

It was packed.

Looking around desperately for a place to sit, Lorelai noticed a man in a flannel shirt and backwards baseball cap. He looked vaguely familiar. But this was pushed from her mind as she realized he was also wearing an apron and wielding a small notepad and pencil, scribbling furiously as a customer relayed her order to him.

Lorelai bounced toward him, arriving just as he started turning away from the other customer. He almost ran into her, but recoiled at the last second. "Jeez!" he shouted, scowling at her. "You almost ran me over!"

"I need coffee," she said, not bothering to apologize.

"Wait for a table, and I'll get to you," he replied gruffly, pushing past her toward an elderly couple, taking their orders as well.

"See, that's not going to work for me," Lorelai started, taking a deep breath in order to prepare herself for the babbling that would soon commence. "Because as you can see, there's not a single empty table in sight. Hell, the whole counter's taken up! And I have exactly—" she glanced at her watch, "—fifteen minutes until I have to be over to the elementary school to pick up my daughter, and if I'm late, I'll never hear the end of it, because believe me," she added with vehemence, following the flannel man to the counter, "_no one_ is a bigger stickler for punctuality than Rory." Lorelai tried to follow him behind the counter, but he turned and gave her the most menacing glare she'd ever seen, rivaling the one she'd gotten from her mother last Christmas when she joked about Rory's non-existent ambition to be a rock star.

However, she ignored the glare, and went on with her rambling. "I mean, the kid obsesses about being on time to everything! Parties, town meetings, school, dinner with my parents, you name it! She even calculates the time it'll take to get there, wherever 'there' happens to be—but that's not the point! The point is she's going to be _very_ upset if I'm late, and right now I'm in _great_ danger of being late, but I need caffeine so that I don't turn into a raging, fiery beast, which is what will happen if you don't give me coffee, so—"

"Do you _ever_ stop talking?" the man half-yelled.

"Not unless given coffee!"

"Well, you're gonna have to wait your turn!"

Lorelai's shoulders slumped, and she was ready to leave the diner and admit defeat, when she spotted a newspaper on someone's table. She walked up to the table, at which sat a middle-aged woman, and put on her you-have-what-I-want-and-I'm-going-to-get-it-by-any-means smile. "Excuse me," she purred, "may I borrow that newspaper for a tiny sec?"

The woman complied, and Lorelai thanked her profusely, then turned directly to the horoscope section, and went back over to the flannel man. "When's your birthday?"

He stared at her in disbelief. "You're _still _here?"

"When's your birthday?" she repeated, ignoring him.

"Get away from me!"

"Come on, just tell me when your birthday is!"

He sighed. "November seventh."

Lorelai grinned, and promptly tore out Scorpio's horoscope. Then she pulled a pen out of her purse and scribbled on it, then handed it to the flannel man. He read it silently, then a look of defeat crossed his face. He tossed her another glare, and she flashed the biggest smile she could muster. Still glowering, he turned around and filled a to-go cup with the heavenly liquid, and handed it to her. "Here," he growled.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she breathed, her smile growing wider. "You're an angel sent from heaven!" Lorelai fished a dollar out of her wallet, but Luke held his hand up in refusal.

"First-time customer," he explained.

Lorelai was touched by his generosity. It was incredibly sweet of him to give her free coffee, considering how annoying he must have found her. Rather than protest, she smiled at him. "Thank you again, Mr. . ."

"Luke," he offered.

_Why does that name ring a bell?_ she wondered. "Thank you, Luke," she said, and practically sprinted toward the door, with only ten minutes left. "Oh, by the way," she called over her shoulder, one hand on the doorknob, "you ought to put that horoscope in your wallet. One day, it'll bring you luck." With yet another smile in his direction, she opened the door and hurried on her way to Rory's school.

Luke watched her go, several emotions pulsing through him at once. Relief, first of all, that she was finally gone, and he didn't have to listen to her incessant prattling anymore. But he was also confused. Why did he feel like he'd seen her before? Even stranger, why did he feel like he'd _argued_ with her before? That wasn't something he was used to feeling. And finally, the slightest twinge of regret. Regret that she'd left at all. Despite the mild headache that was forming from her babbling, there was something about her that . . . he wasn't sure how to describe it. It was like, there was a sort of glow about her.

He pulled the horoscope she'd given him out of his pocket, reading it again. _You will meet an annoying woman today. Give her coffee and she'll go away_. Why did he wish she hadn't gone away? Luke rolled his eyes, folding up the piece of paper and holding it over the trashcan. But something stopped him. Something deep inside him told him not to just throw it away, to hold onto it. _You ought to put that horoscope in your wallet. One day, it'll bring you luck._ Laughing silently, both at her completely crazy suggestion and his own stupidity, Luke pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, tucking the folded horoscope behind one of his credit cards.

"One day," he mused.

Lorelai moved as quickly as she could, then took a sip of her coffee. As soon as the hot beverage floated over her tongue, she stopped. It was, without a doubt, the most delicious cup of coffee she'd ever had in her twenty-seven years. She turned to look back at the diner—_Luke's_ diner. He owned the diner. And here, she'd thought he was an employee. Oh, no, he was the employ_er_. Assuming there was anyone else working there. There should be, considering the massive horde of people that had contributed to their, ahem, _pleasant_ little interlude just minutes ago.

Questions flashed through her mind. If he owned the diner, did that mean he cooked the food, or was he just some guy with deep pockets that came along and decided to buy the place? That didn't seem very likely, considering he'd been taking people's orders and wearing an apron. Had he been a filthy rich, cigar-chomping diner buyer, he wouldn't be doing the actual work. He'd be in some stuffy office, chomping said cigars, and counting coins like Ebenezer Scrooge.

A few minutes later, Lorelai found herself standing outside Stars Hollow Elementary School, waiting for Rory to appear. The bell rang, and hundreds of screaming kids came stampeding out the main entrance. Finally, Lorelai spotted her daughter, who started running when she saw her. Lorelai bent her knees slightly, so that she'd be at eye level with the eleven-year-old, and braced herself for the forthcoming hug.

"Hey, kid!" she greeted her. "How was school?"

Rory then began her narration of every moment of class. Lorelai listened to stories of her fellow students, the teachers, and the very friendly lunch ladies. Each day was much the same, but she loved to hear Rory's enthusiasm. The young girl absolutely _loved_ school—something that Lorelai definitely could _not_ relate to.

Near the end of her daughter's commentary, Lorelai noticed they were back in the center of town. Her eyes inadvertently wandered to Luke's. She'd finished her coffee a little while ago, and was already jonesing for more. She forced herself to walk past the diner, though. They'd just have to come back for dinner; she was dying to see how good of a cook Luke was.

Three hours later, Lorelai, now more comfortably clad in jeans and a pink hoodie, burst into Rory's room, feeling hyper and excited. She had finally figured out why Luke seemed so familiar to her. She distinctly remembered a day at the mall, where she'd been trying on clothes at Bergdorf's, but the outfit was missing shoes, so she'd gone out to get some. Then she'd bumped into _Luke_.

And now she was desperate to see him again.

"Hey!" Lorelai said, sitting on Rory's bed and bouncing up and down.

"Too much coffee?" Rory guessed.

"Actually, I haven't had any. Not since the cup I had when I picked you up. Which brings me to what I wanted to ask you." Rory nodded, indicating that she should continue. "I got the coffee at this place called Luke's Diner. It's a new place—well, new to me, this was the first time I've been there—and it's the best coffee I have ever had in my life, so I was thinking we should eat dinner there."

Rory frowned. "But what if the food sucks?"

"Then it'll become a coffee-only place. It couldn't hurt to try it out."

"Can't argue with that," she shrugged. "Okay, let's go."

Lorelai grinned as they headed out the door. When they arrived at the diner, the dinner rush had yet to start, so there were plenty of open tables. They picked one close to the counter, ensuring that they would be seen and served quickly.

Luke stepped out of the kitchen to see who had just come in. He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face when he saw the coffee-obsessed woman from that afternoon, the one who gave him the horoscope. But he forced himself to tone it down as he approached the table.

"What ever happened to going away?" he grumbled, feigning irritation.

"The deal was give me coffee and I'd _go_ away, but I never said I'd _stay_ away," she smirked. "Besides, do you _really_ expect me to not come back when you have the best coffee in town?"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course, you're the Coffee Queen. My mistake."

"Yes, bow down to me, peasant," she teased.

Rory watched the interaction between her mother and this stranger with a slightly disapproving eye. They were flirting. _Openly_ flirting. Well, at least _she _was, but it didn't look like he was too against her doing so. This explained why she was _really_ so desperate to get back here. She didn't care about the food or the coffee . . . well . . . maybe the coffee . . . but that was only a fringe benefit. She wanted the guy.

"Anyway, Luke," Rory heard her say as she tuned back into the conversation, "I never got the chance to properly introduce myself. I'm Lorelai Gilmore, and this is my daughter Rory," she finished, pointing at her.

"Hi," Rory forced a smile and waved at him. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, same," he said. "So, what'll you have?"

"Do you have cheeseburgers?" Lorelai asked.

"Yep."

"Bring a couple of those, please, and coffee, of course."

"What'll you have to drink?" he asked Rory.

She frowned. "Um . . . coffee."

He mirrored his expression. "You mean you're a coffee nut, too?"

Rory shrugged, giving an apologetic smile. "What can I say? When you're surrounded by insanity, it gets to you."

"I haven't heard you complain before," Lorelai interjected.

"Who said I was complaining?"

"'Surrounded by insanity?'" she repeated.

"That wasn't complaining," Rory explained to her. "That was a general description of your personality."

"And in return for that remark, you get laundry duty."

"I already did the laundry."

"Rats! Um . . ." Lorelai searched for an adequate punishment. "You have to . . . clean your room?" She said it as a question, knowing it was already a losing battle.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you _seen_ my room."

"Gah! Fine."

Rory grinned triumphantly, then looked up at Luke, whose eyebrow was raised in an expression of awe. "Two coffees, two burgers."

Luke had watched the scene between mother and daughter in amazement. They were most definitely related. They each had the same biting wit, the same uncanny ability to talk faster than anyone else on the planet, the same blue eyes . . . there was no mistaking it.

"Coming right up," he said finally. As he walked away, he heard them laughing. He shook his head, not sure whether he should be amused or annoyed. He looked back at the table as he reached the counter, and found them deep in conversation with one another. His eyes lingered on Lorelai. Lorelai Gilmore. He knew why he felt like he'd seen her before—he _had_. About twelve years ago, at a mall. He'd gone with Liz to pick something out for some stupid dance she'd insisted on going to, and while she was trying on clothes, he'd been accosted by none other than the woman sitting in his diner. She'd been trying on her own outfit, and had insisted on getting shoes to go with it, something about completing it. It was ridiculous, and they'd argued briefly, in the middle of whatever store they were in. And, much to his surprise at the time, it had actually been _fun_. In a weird, twisted sort of way.

Did _she_ remember? It didn't seem likely. A woman like her, with a kid to raise and probably a career, maybe even a husband (his stomach clenched painfully at the thought), wouldn't remember a one-time encounter with someone she'd had a fight with in the mall. Sighing, he decided not to bring it up, and went into the kitchen to start on their food.

Both girls were pleasantly surprised when Luke came out just minutes later with two delicious smelling cheeseburgers. Lorelai eagerly picked up her burger and bit into it, and smiled. "You are my new favorite person in the world, Luke," she said.

"Thanks for the love!" Rory protested.

"Well, you're _always_ my favorite, it's kind of a given, what with the whole 'I gave birth to you' thing. But this is different, this is sublime!"

"This is ridiculous," Luke added.

"Hush you," she waved at him, still looking at her daughter. "This is the best burger I have ever had the opportunity to eat. Is there anything you _don't_ do?"

"Yeah, put up with annoying women."

"Oh-ho-ho, I beg to differ! You've served me _twice_ today!"

"Jeez, I got work to do," he rolled his eyes, stalking off to the kitchen. Lorelai smiled at his back, then kept eating.

As she ate, her mind drifted back to their first meeting. She'd hoped that he would remember her when she told him her name, but it didn't seem like he had. Oh well, no biggie. If the subject happened to come up at a later time, then she'd be more than willing to discuss it, but she wouldn't go out of her way to do so.

"Wow, these _are_ good!" Rory exclaimed.

Lorelai grinned at her, and then turned her eyes to Luke, who was wiping off the counter. Admittedly, she'd entertained the idea of maybe, possibly, someday dating him. He was attractive, funny, he looked strong, and he seemed like he'd be the kind of guy to put his whole heart and soul into a relationship. But of course, she had to think about Rory, too. How would Rory react to it? She'd seemed a little tense when he first came over, and Rory wasn't one to get tense easily. Well, not when it came to interacting with adults. Then, of course, the siren in her head blared, and she knew it wouldn't be possible. Oh well. At least the food was good.

As the two girls finished their dinner, Luke appeared again with two small plates, each one bearing a slice of pie.

"What is _this_?" Lorelai asked, looking up at him.

"It's pie," he said dryly.

"I can see that it's pie, I was just wondering what it's doing here."

"It's the last of the peach, and I need to get rid of it before it goes bad, which it will if I just let it sit during the rush."

"Don't you think someone might ask for it?"

"Will you just eat the pie?"

"Fine, okay, great," she surrendered, and he left again. She had to laugh at that. It was obvious he hadn't given them the pie just to get rid of it. Well, if nothing else, she could tell she and Luke would be very good friends for a long time.

And maybe someday. . . .

_A/N: I know, that's a really crappy ending, but it was getting too long and I didn't know how to end it and besides, we all know what happens. You're welcome to leave a scathing review if you wish, but I must ask you that you don't track me down and raid my house in the middle of the night with torches and pitchforks._


End file.
